Lost Endings: Lon Chaney's Phantom
by Ignea servus Dominus
Summary: Did you know that there were four radically different endings proposed, written or filmed for this silent film? Join with me in this journey of one-shots which are intended to give you a taste of how this film could have ended. All of these are based on documented "alternate endings" authored by Universal's screenwriters.
1. Lost Ending 1

_**Disclaimer:**_** I do not own "The Phantom of the Opera"; all elements belong to their respective owners**

_**Based on: An early Elliot Clawson draft (never used)**_

Christine frantically ran about her apartment tossing the basics of her personal affects into the small carpet bag laid out on the bed.

It had all seemed to happen so fast: Erik kidnapping her, Raoul and the torture, the ultimatum of the scorpion and the grasshopper, her kissing Erik, their release….the mob.

Christine fought back tears as she remembered hearing the yells of rage and the violent destruction, as the mob had entered the Phantom's home. Erik had told them to run…. _Erik shall stay and die! _He had told them, shoving them through the secret door which led to the surface. Christine knew that once the mob found Erik there would have been no mercy. Erik was dead.

She and Raoul had done as the Phantom had said, fleeing the cellars and racing to Raoul's waiting carriage. From there, Raoul had dropped her off outside her apartment to gather her things while he went and made the final arrangement for their flight to England.

"_We must leave before the cock crows this dawn!"_ Raoul had declared gravely before he left. _"Even without the Opera Ghost, we can still lose each other; if my elder brother becomes wise to our plan he will separate us forever!"_

A sudden knock at the door made Christine jump.

Believing that Raoul had returned, Christine snatched up her bag and quickly strode to the door, her perspiring palm closed around the cool metal of the knob and she flung the door open; to her bewilderment there was no one there! _Did I imagine it?_ She wondered.

"_Christine….?"_ Someone moaned, it was only then that Christine noticed a dark shape collapsed against the side of the doorframe. Her eyes went wide with recognition as a strangled shriek flew past her lips. _"Erik?"_ She cried. At the sound of her voice Erik (for it was indeed he) pushed away from the wall, struggling to haul himself through the threshold. Christine instinctually drew back.

"_Christine…." _He panted. _"…..please don't run…"_ As he stumbled into the light Christine realized what damage the mob had done to him. His face already twisted face was blue and swollen from bruising, his clothing shredded and torn to the point of being unrecognizable. If it was possible, he looked even more hideous.

Erik's features suddenly contorted in agony and he faltered, pressing a skeletal hand to the side of his rib cage. Without thinking, Christine reached out and caught him by the arm. _"Erik what is wrong?" _She asked frantically. Surely a few bruises wouldn't do this to him?

He was gasping for breath, barely able to support himself but finally he recovered enough to choke out. _"I'm….I…." _He broke into a coughing fit but managed to pull back his arm enough to reveal the especially large sanguine stain spreading from just under his left lung….fatale.

Erik leaned against the wall for support, blood smearing into the plaster, his chest heaving with every breath. _"…Christine…I….came to apologize…t-to beg forgiveness…for my actions…" _ A choked sob bubbled up from his throat and he doubled over in pain, groaning. Tossing the carpet bag to the side, Christine caught him under the shoulders and guided him to his knees. Despite everything, Christine found she could not fear the man nor could she hate him.

Christine had not the will to deny the man mercy,

Quietly, she knelt down beside the "Opera Ghost" and placed a hand on his bloody shoulder. _ "I forgive you, Erik…." _She whispered._ "….I…forgave you when you freed me." _

"_Merciful angel…" _He whispered softly_. "I…thank you, Ch-Christine."_

Christine wasn't sure what compelled her to do so but slowly she reached over and pulled his quivering wrist over her shoulder before wrapping her arm around his back. "_Let me help you to the parlor."_ She offered gently. Not waiting for his reply she began assisting his frail body into standing position._ "…Lean on me as much as you need, Erik…" _

With some effort, she managed to half drag/ half carry the Opera Ghost into her living room and to the richly upholstered settee.

As Christine laid Erik against the soft cushions her hand softly came down and brushed his jet black hair away from his eyes. He shuddered at the contact before relaxing into the cushions and closing his eyes.

"_Hush…"_ Christine cooed, as though speaking to a child. _"….Rest now. Shhh…" _

She slowly stroked his shoulder, smoothing out the blood dampened material of his jacket. His breaths deepened and evened as he nearly slipped into unconsciousness but suddenly his eyes flew open causing Christine to jump.

"Christine…" Erik wheezed. "Give me your hand…quickly!"

Apprehensive and confused, Christine gave her hand to him. Despite the trembling of his hands Erik quickly slid a wedding ring off of his finger, the ring was slick with blood and he fumbled for a moment before finally transferring the plain gold band into Christine's palm.

"My gift for the little chap you love…" Erik whispered weakly before his eyes suddenly rolled and he went limp.

**Author's Note****:** _I will be doing a series of short stories which are all alternate endings to the 1925 Phantom of the Opera film. _

_As you may or may not know, there were 5 different endings proposed, written or shot for this film, the one which survives today being the fifth and final revision. _

_I will be re-writing and presenting these other four endings in this series of one-shots. _

_Please realize that there is a lot of rumor and speculation about what is actually supposed to have been said or done in these varying endings, what I write is based off of the accounts from the most credible sources, I only want to present these to you in a way that might give you a taste of what this would have looked like on film._

_I have used my imagination to fill in whatever blank points were left in these conclusions so do not expect these to be completely accurate._


	2. Lost Ending 2

_**Disclaimer:**_** I do not own "The Phantom of the Opera"; all elements belong to their respective owners.**

_**Base on:**_** Los Angeles premier version, written by Raymond L. Schrock and Elliot Clawson. Ending filmed but cut after first screening. Footage currently considered "lost".**

Gulping, Christine reached her pale hand out to the back of the metal scorpion. Her wrist flinched in hesitation before she slowly grasped the cool, graved metal and turned the Scorpion. The sound of gushing water filled her ears.

With resignation, she solemnly turned back to Erik. _"I've made my choice."_ Christine whispered, her eyes averted toward the ground.

Erik slowly came toward her…Every sound seemed to intensify, the rustle of his cape, the slow, almost timid, clicking of his heels as they struck against the floor, coming closer… Christine dared to glance at his eyes, wondering why he seemed to be suddenly timid….his expression seemed almost…disbelieving….just…staring at her through those sunken eyes.

"_I have made my choice…"_ She repeated quietly, her hands pressed to her sides, awaiting whatever further horror would be thrust against her. _"…I will be your bride….but only if you save them!"_

Erik slowly reached out and stroked her hair. Christine tensed under his light touch, pressing her eyes shut as she drew in a quick breath. With great resolve, she managed to fight off the instinct to jerk from him.

"Your love for Raoul…" Erik whispered with equal mix of awe and confusion. "…gives you strength to sacrifice yourself." Erik felt his eyes grow hot, tears threatening to reveal themselves. Pain wracked him as he choked out the base thought that gripped him. "Such love…rebukes my disbelief in God!"

Christine felt his hand shudder and dared to open her eyes as he drew away. Erik turned his back to her and staggered to the settee, gripping the edge of the silk draped furniture as he quivered like a wounded beast.

"_Erik…"_ Christine whispered uncertainly, fearing that he had changed his mind. When he did not reply, she went over to his side and reticently placed her hand on his shoulder…he did not respond.

Fearing that he was not yet satisfied, Christine swallowed and closed her eyes before gently placing her hand on top of his…time seemed to last an eternity as she ever so slowly bent down and kissed his cheek.

As she kissed him, Erik gasped in shock and pitched forward, his knuckles white with strain as he clutched the settee.

"_Christine…?"_ He breathed, turning to look at her. "I will do anything you wish…" Christine whispered, her brown eyes glowing with un-shed tear drops… "…if you will only save them!" She pleaded, gripping his sleeve.

Erik seemed to be jolted abruptly from his reverie and nodded before quickly pushing her away and stumbling to the rug. Bending down he grabbed a corner and tore it back to reveal a large trap door beneath. Erik quickly turned and pressed a button on the side of one of the many miscellaneous statues that decorated the inside of his home. The twin doors slowly opened, revealing a pair of half drowned forms.

Barely conscious, The Persian lifted Raoul's limp form into the Phantoms waiting hands before starting to drag himself from the water. With surprising gentleness, Erik took Raoul under the arms and hauled him from the water, laying his upper body on the twin steps leading to his room. "_Oh, my love!"_ Christine cried running to Raoul's side. Raoul moaned as she lifted him into her arms. _"Hush…dear, it's alright..." _She cooed. _"…You're safe…Shh…"_

Erik's fists clenched at his sides as he watched Christine dote upon the unconscious noblemen. A movement in the corner of his eyes caught his attention and he turned away from the pair focusing his attention on The Persian.

"_Curse you, Daroga!"_ Erik growled, pointing an accusatory finger at the sputtering Persian. _"You have betrayed my secrets!"_

"_Christine…?"_ Someone groaned. The sound of Raoul's voice diverted Erik's attention back to where Christine sat holding Raoul.

Erik watched silently as the nobleman's eyes flickered open. _"Christine?" _Raoul asked again, a look of rapture on his countenance. _"I'm here."_ She assured him. _"Oh, Christine, I thought I'd lost you!" _He cried, Christine responded by kissing him gently.

The Persian watched with growing horror and sat up in alarm, afraid that Erik would fly into a jealous rage but to his shock, instead of fury, the former Daroga saw a look of agony cross Erik's face. Without a word, Erik respectfully turned away from the couple.

"_Did he….Did he hurt you, Christine?"_ Raoul whispered, brushing away a stray lock of curly brown hair. She shook her head. "_No Raoul…but…I-I…cannot marry you."_ _"What do mean?"_ Raoul asked, bewildered. "I am going to marry Erik. I have promised and I will keep my promise."

Christine slowly stood up and went over to Erik, leaving Raoul to watch in astonishment as Christine sidled up beside Erik and placed her hand on his arm.

Erik swallowed and turned to face her. Christine forced herself to look at him, even managing to conjure a smile to complete the effect of a tender bride. Erik bowed his head under her gaze, ashamed.

"Your pity has broken me…" He whispered. "…your kiss will be my redemption. Christine—will you—kiss me?" The last request was spoken so softly that Christine could barely hear it, almost like a whisper in the breeze.

Erik stood before her, head bowed, eyes closed…. a prisoner awaiting his sentence.

Raoul and the Persian stared in awe as Christine slowly stepped closer to Erik and took his head between her hands...Christine paused as Erik inhaled sharply, his whole body going rigid. Ever so quietly, Christine closed the distance between them and gently placed her lips on Erik's forehead.

No one paid attention as the arm of Erik's alarm began to ring, signifying the approach of the murderous mob.

As Christine drew away, Erik clutched a hand to his heart, faltering for a moment before quickly regaining his composure. _"Christine…" _He whispered, his eyes filling with gratitude and love as he met the warmth of her gaze.

"She has saved your life!" Erik cried, turning his gaze to the dazed Raoul De Chagny. "But she has saved _my__ soul_!"

Erik quickly turned back to Christine. "I release you from your promise…" He choked. "Marry your sweetheart and be happy!"

Christine looked at him in bewilderment, not quite believing that after all Erik had done to possess her, he would release her so easily. Christine eyed him apprehensively before slowly retreating to Raoul's side, never once taking her eyes from Erik.

"Persian…" Erik said, facing the Arab man. "…tell your master, for whom you tracked me, that Erik did one good deed and then escaped."

With that, Erik staggered to his organ and slid onto the bench before beginning to play his masterpiece….his "Don Juan Triumphant!"

"Your wedding march, Christine…" Erik yelled over the deafening thunder of the organ. "…my requiem!"

Erik had only managed to stumble through the beginning part of "Don Juan" before the pain had exploded in his breast.

"_Erik!"_ Christine cried in alarm as the Phantom suddenly sprawled backward across the organ bench, clutching his chest.

The Persian scrambled to his feet and quickly ran to Erik's side. _"Erik…" _The Daroga said his name worriedly. _"Erik, stay with me!" _He hissed, taking Erik into his arms and pressing his palm to the Phantom's failing heart.

Erik gasped slightly and gripped the Persian's sleeve, drawing the man towards him. "All I wanted Daroga…" Erik rasped. "…was to be loved…like anybody else."

A sudden pounding at the door startled the Persian and quickly drew his attention to the bolted wooden door that guarded the entrance to Erik's home.

At that moment there was a horrendous crack as the mob managed to sheer off the locking mechanism. Without hesitation they slammed into the wooden door and burst into the Phantom's home.

Christine gave a cry before fainting dead away into Raoul's arms. "_For the love of God, stop!"_ Raoul screamed uselessly as the mob poured into the room, the raging rabble pounded into the room all yells of fury blending together as one deafening roar, easily drowning out Raoul's voice.

The men froze in shock and a collective gasp went up as the mob beheld the Phantom, caught in his death throes. Suddenly, all sound seemed to cease as the men all drew back and stared in mute horror at the dying Opera Ghost, Simon Buquet was the only man who dared to venture any farther toward the stricken figure.

The head sceneshifter slowly approached, his expression was no longer one of rage but rather of shocked curiosity.

The Persian's mouth was set in a hard line as he eyed the advancing man, as Simon drew near the Persian slowly stepped away from Erik, allowing the sceneshifter to approach.

Simon found he could do nothing but stare in horrified fascination as Erik's whole body writhed and shuddered before abruptly falling limp against the organ bench…dead.

The Persian swallowed hard and looked away, head bowed.

"_He's…dead."_ Simon muttered. _"The Opera Ghost is dead." _A murmur of confusion went up from the crowd as this news was passed. Most of the men looked lost, confused upon what they should do. They had plunged hundreds of feet into the bowels of earth with the sole intention of killing this "Phantom"…only to find that he was already dead. All of their rage, all of their vengeance, everything, was for nothing.

A gasp of surprise slipped past Christine's lips a she awoke in Raoul's arms. Her eyes surveyed the mob in confusion before turning to Raoul. _"Erik…" _She whispered, gripping her lover's tattered shirt. _"…is…he…?"_ Raoul slowly nodded.

Christine closed her eyes and sadly lowered her head as Raoul helped her to her feet.

"_Monsieur De Chagny…"_ The Persian beckoned softly. _"…I beg your assistance."_ He said, gesturing sullenly to the lifeless corpse.

Raoul nodded and disentangled himself from Christine before crossing toward the Persian, who was alreadymoving to lift the body's shoulders.

"_Where are we to take him?" _Raoul asked, slipping behind the bench of the organ and quietly taking the man's legs.

"_To his bedchamber…"_ The Arab directed, sweeping a hand toward the curtained room.

The two quickly lifted the body and carried it down the steps toward the bedchamber.

"_Move aside!"_ Simon Buquet bellowed at the slower men. _"Let them pass!" _

The men obeyed without hesitation, slowly stepping aside to allow Raoul and the Persian through, a few of them even bowing their heads respectfully as they passed.

Raoul shuddered as they entered the Phantom's room, his eyes focusing on the black coffin; it was clear what they were to do with the corpse.

Without fanfare the two men carefully lowered the body into the coffin. A few members of the mob filed in after them, staring with wide-eyed fascination. Christine slipped in with them and slowly made her way to Raoul's side. When he caught sight of her, Raoul opened his arms to encircle her body.

"_I love you Raoul."_ Christine whispered. Raoul sighed and drew her closer to him.

"_Come Christine…."_ Raoul whispered, stroking the hair from her face_. "…let us fly. Let us fly and put all these things behind us." _

"_You know I shall follow you wherever you lead me." _Christine replied, taking his hand.

With that, Raoul and Christine quietly slipped out with the dispersing procession of stagehands before making their way back to the surface and to Raoul's waiting barouche.

Once on the surface, Raoul was in the act of helping Christine into the carriage when a voice pierced the night.

"_Ms. Christine!" _

Christine spun around to see Florine Papillon dashing toward her, cloak in hand.

"_Ms. Christine…"_ He panted coming to halt beside her and draping the cloak about her shoulders. _"…your cloak."_

A smile tinged Christine's lips as she graciously nodded to the man _"Thank you, Monsieur Papillon"_

Florine smiled and bowed to her, stepping back as Raoul proceeded to help her into the carriage before alighting himself.

"_Goodbye Ms. Daae!"_ The stagehand called as the coachman cracked his whipped. _"Goodbye!" _

**Author's Note:** All of the italicized dialogue comes from my imagination. Dialogue which is not italicized is supposed to have been printed on title cards.

If you have information about any of these lost sequences that doesn't seem to match up to what I have written, please alert me to this and I will make the necessary changes.

I know that this story seems to be extremely unrealistic but I would like to point out that I am confined to sticking with the original story line so please bear with it (and me).

Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Lost Ending 3

_**Disclaimer:**_** I do not own "The Phantom of the Opera"; all elements belong to their respective owners.**

_**Based On:**_ **Original script, proposed on October 12****th**** 1923, written by Bernard McConville and James Spearling**

Christine was the only thing that drove Raoul onward. The searing heat and the seemingly distant echoing of his own whimpers and moans battered his frayed senses to the point of near madness, helped along by the incessantly, never-ending mirrors.

Raoul was only vaguely aware of the soft swishing noise as the Persian fellow frantically dug through the gritty sand searching desperately for the trap-door he claimed was there.

At that point Raoul did not know nor did he care about the trap-door, all he cared for was his bride….his poor Christine.

He had failed in his duty as a fiancé to protect his fiancée. He had failed her!

He had tried… He had tried and he had failed! He had trusted the Persian stranger to lead him down to rescue Christine, traversing hundreds of feet of empty, deathly silent tunnels searching… Just when hope had flamed in him that there was at least a chance of saving Christine…they were suddenly trapped in this burning hell that it seemed would be the end of he and the Persians' lives.

"_Turn back or ye' perish…"_ The rat catcher had warned them. The man couldn't have been more correct…it seemed all of them were to die here!

A roaring sound echoed within the room and both men could have sworn they had seen a lion slinking behind one trees of the endless forest….Raoul knew then that he was going mad.

The feeling of helplessness that had possessed Raoul when Christine had vanished during Faust only multiplied with the knowledge that Christine's last memory of him would probably be as a poor, mad, scorched corpse….

As if on cue, a noose suddenly dropped from the ceiling, wriggling almost invitingly as it swung to-and-fro. At that moment in time the rough, braided fiber rope seemed to be a welcome companion for the two victims. _A short and quick door to freedom… _Raoul thought.

Raoul's hazy thoughts were suddenly pierced when the Persian gave a cry as his hands suddenly felt the shallow, defined seam where the trap-door melded with the existing floor.

"_I've found it Monsieur Vicomte!"_ He wheezed excitedly. _"I've found it!" _

An ember of hope burned brightly in both men's eyes as the Persian pulled up the "key" which operated the spring of the trap-door, with a rush of sand and the slight crunching of the mineral contaminated mechanism, the door yielded and mercifully opened to allow the two men passage.

The Persian was the first to drop down into the pit, lantern and pistol in hand as he carefully examined the surroundings before calling for Raoul to join him.

"_This must be Erik's cellar…"_ The Persian whispered as he raised the lantern to reveal the many barrels stacked neatly around them.

"_Come…"_ The Persian beckoned softly, signaling for Raoul to follow. _"I believe I have discovered a staircase."_

Raoul locked his eyes onto the dim glow of the lantern as it suddenly illuminated a set of steps leading up from the cellar.

"_But we know not where they lead…"_ Raoul pointed out. _"Perhaps they lead to another trap…."_

The Persian looked at him, his eyes going hard. _"That is a risk we must take."_ He growled, raising and cocking the pistol.

As silently as possible the pair slowly ascended the stone steps, all was pitch black excepting the soft glow of the lantern.

As they reached what seemed to be the top of the steps the Monster's voice came to within their range of hearing, causing them to freeze for fear of discovery.

"_So you will not be the bride of Erik, Mademoiselle? You will not turn the scorpion?"_ The beast asked sharply, the edge of threat slipping into his voice as easily as a hot knife through butter.

Realizing the imminent danger, the Persian quickly slunk forward and came round the corner at the top of the stairs, immediately to his right was a stone doorway, shrouded by a black velvet curtain.

From behind the curtain came Christine's shrill voice. _"No! I refuse!"_

The Persian handed Raoul the lantern and raised a finger to his lips as the boy came to stand at his side.

Dropping down to his hands and knees, the Persian slowly drew back the lower corner of the velvet curtain and peered into the room.

Christine was standing beside an ornate chest glaring spitefully through her tears as Erik moved toward her. Despite the fact that his back was to the Persian, the taut harsh movement of his body betrayed Erik's roiling, barely contained anger.

"_You do realize Mademoiselle what each of these little dears represents, do you not?"_ Erik asked, gesturing to something within the chest.

Christine simply fell to her knees helplessly.

Indifferent to her sufferings, Erik continued on:

"_If you do not remember, I will repeat it once more: if Mademoiselle turns the grasshopper then you shall ignite the gunpowder and shall blow us all to smithereens, if Mademoiselle turns the scorpion, Mademoiselle will agree to be Erik's wife and in doings so, shall make a present of their lives to a few hundred oblivious Parisians" _

The Persian's eyes widened with horror as he realized what game Erik was playing. He turned to the passion driven young man behind him to ensure that the boy would not make a similar out-burst to the one which had led their discovery within the torture chamber; fortunately, the young man seemed to understand the necessity for stealth and remained silent.

"_I will never be your bride!"_ Christine practically screamed.

"_You will not turn the Scorpion then?"_ Erik asked slowly, dangerously. _"Then I shall turn the grasshopper!" _Erik cried, reaching for something within the casket. _"No!" _Christine cried, lunging toward him.

At that moment, neither Raoul nor the Persian stopped to think as they burst through the curtain. The only intention in their minds was to preserve their lives.

Erik jerked his hand away from the casket and spun around in surprise, cloak billowing about him. Before he could react, the Persian aimed his pistol and fired.

The bullet tore deep into the Phantom's chest, ripping and splintering flesh, bone and muscle before lodging itself in his heart.

Erik clasped his hand to his chest and drew a wheezing, gurgling breath before collapsing to the stone floor. Christine cried out in horror and threw a hand across her face as she turned away from the body.

Raoul immediately rushed to her side, relief and concern washing over his countenance by turns.

"_Oh Raoul…"_ Christine whispered as he rushed over to her and gathered her into his arms. Tears of joy ran down her face as she sank into his embrace; neither noticed as the Persian slowly sank down next to Erik's body, feeling for a non-existent pulse.

The Persian sighed as he laid Erik's cold, bloody hand across his still chest. _"I am sorry, my friend…"_ The Persian said sullenly, staring at the limp form.

His face was heavy with regret and sorrow as he slowly rose to his feet before quickly composing himself and turning back to the couple.

"_Follow me…"_ The Persian said, gesturing to the door. _"I will lead you back to the surface."_

**Author's Note:**In this draft, there was no mob, Joseph Buquet was never murdered and lastly, Christine was originally supposed to be extremely vituperate (explaining her selfish desire to let hundreds of innocents die rather than save their lives by giving up her own). I have to say, I am glad this ending was never used.


	4. Lost Ending 4

_**Disclaimer:**_** I do not own "The Phantom of the Opera"; all elements belong to their respective owners.**

_**Based On:**_ **The 4th shooting script draft, upon which, the final ending was based, written by Elliot Clawson and Raymond Schrock.**

Erik threw back his head and laughed with maniacal glee as he whipped the horses onward, driving the barouche wildly through the street as the mob chased after them.

A deafening cacophony of sound rang through the street as the shouts of the mob combined with the clattering of the carriage thundered through the night.

Erik was insane with twisted joy. He cackled once more as he thought of the woman he had trapped within the carriage. Christine was finally his…his! Forever! Nothing could stand in his way now!

As Erik careened the carriage around the corner there was an ominous creaking noise as the barouche suddenly tipped and crashed into the cobblestones, sending Erik tumbling from the driver seat. The horses reared and danced around with terror, attempting to bolt forward.

"_Christine!"_ Erik cried, getting to his feet and starting toward the carriage.

"_There he is!"_ Simon Buquet hollered as he spotted the toppled barouche. _"Come on men!"_ He cried, leading the men onward, their blazing torches forming a sea of fire as the rushing through the street like a burning wave.

Erik drew back in fear as he saw the mob rushing toward him, closing the distance between them. If he stayed a moment longer they would catch him.

With a regretful glance at the carriage, he turned and ran fast as he could from the charging cabal.

Erik knew the assemblage wouldn't harm Christine, it was him they wanted not her…she would be safe.

Erik frantically looked for some sort of refuge as he ran. Perhaps if he hid the fools would lose him in the maze of Parisian streets.

Panic took over as a bullet whizzed past him, without thinking, Erik ducked into an alley…only to discover that there was only one way in…and one way out.

Erik turned to try to flee the alley only to find the mob closing around the entrance…. Just then, Erik noticed a ladder climbing to the roof of the unfinished building….

"_We have him trapped now!"_ Someone yelled, cries of rage rose from the crowd. Joseph Buquet would be avenged!

"_Look!"_ Someone cried pointing to an ascending figure. _"He's headed for the roof."_ Without hesitation, Simon Buquet ran forward and quickly scaled up the ladder after Erik, the rest of the mob followed suit climbing up one-at-a-time after him.

As Erik reached the rooftop, he discovered that he was once again trapped; there were no buildings close enough to jump to and it was nearly a two story drop to the ground.

Erik spun around in terror as Simon Buquet and the other members of the mob alighted onto the roof.

"_Tonight, my brother will be avenged_!" Simon Buquet cried, rage twisting his countenance as he advanced toward the Phantom, ready to kill.

Erik backed away from them in terror as they scrambled up after him. Without warning, the Phantom suddenly lost his footing on the steep roof…With a cry of horror, Erik tumbled down the roof and to the street below with a sickening thud.

Cries of victory went up from the assembly as the crowd quickly surrounded the Phantom's broken form, morbid curiosity getting the better of them as they jockeyed to get a glimpse of the beast that had terrorized them.

A lone figure determinedly fought through the crowd, grimly making his way to the "Ghost's" side.

"_Get back!"_ The Persian yelled, shoving the men to the side and kneeling beside the Phantom.

To the shock of the mob, the Persian quickly touched Erik's neck, feeling for his weak pulse.

"_Daroga…."_ The dying Phantom choked deliriously, addressing him by his former title as chief of police.

"All I wanted, Daroga, was to have a wife like everyone else and to take her out on Sundays…." With that, the Phantom's pulse stilled and he silently relaxed against the cobblestones.

**Author's Note:** A special thank you to "LadyLuly", "newbornphanatic" and "Samantha Michaelis" for their reviews and time. (I also tip my hat to "Horses of Shadow and Night's" "The Lost Ending" for giving me the inspiration for this series)

If you are interested in the information I used to write these stories, here is my list of sources:

_**Lost Ending 1:**_ Mentioned by film historian Scott Macqueen in an audio commentary on "The Phantom of the Opera: Ultimate Edition" for the 1929 Phantom of the Opera (disc 1).

_**Lost Ending 2:**_ Stills can be found on the disc 2 special features in "The Phantom of the Opera: Ultimate Edition", it is also spoken of in great detail by Scott Macqueen in the 1929 audio commentary.

Full recap of this version can be found on page 196 of Philip Riley's "The Phantom of the Opera" Classic Silents Vol. 1

_**Lost Ending 3:**_ Mentioned by film historian Scott Macqueen in an audio commentary on "The Phantom of the Opera: Ultimate Edition" for the 1929 Phantom of the Opera (disc 1).

Full recap of this version can also be found on page 38 of Philip Riley's "The Phantom of the Opera" Classic Silents Vol. 1

_**Lost Ending 4:**_ Mentioned by film historian Scott Macqueen in an audio commentary on "The Phantom of the Opera: Ultimate Edition" for the 1929 Phantom of the Opera (disc 1).

Thank you for reading.


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